


There Was A Party

by WhyWolves



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Just Cute Stuff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-05 10:10:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14041962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhyWolves/pseuds/WhyWolves
Summary: Scott drags Stiles to a party at Derek's house & begs Stiles to PLEASE figure out what the hell is going on between him & Derek Hale.





	There Was A Party

**Author's Note:**

> LOOK. I haven't watched Teen Wolf in years. I don't know what happens after season 3. I still think about Stiles & Derek constantly. This is the hill I will DIE on.

        There was a party. An overcrowded, loud, splitting at the seams kind of party. Light and music poured out of every door and window of the house like waterfalls of overstimulation. The warm summer air was filled with the idle conversations of twenty-somethings who had nothing better to do than drink beer after beer in someone else’s house on a Friday night in July.   
        “This is going to be fun,” Stiles said, turning to his best friend Scott as they walked through the open front door. “My ears are going to love me for this.” He felt the bass drop and reverberate through his bones.  
        “It is going to be fun,” insisted Scott, grinning. “Alison’s bringing a whole bottle of tequila. And while I’m getting shitfaced with my girlfriend, I expect you to sort out whatever the fuck is going on between you and Derek Hale.”  
        Stiles laughed. “I don’t know what you mean.”  
        “Oh. I know you do. Don’t pretend that you don’t,” said Scott, looking around the room, searching for Alison. He lead the way through the house towards the kitchen, Stiles one step behind. Alison was by the dishwasher, pouring shots from a very large bottle of tequila. Stiles didn’t even know they made them that big. Surely... surely that was too big. She smiled when she saw them & motioned for them to join her.  
        “Here,” she said, handing them each a shot glass. “Bottoms up.” Stiles gagged as the spirit hit his throat. Scott whooped and Alison laughed.  
       Ok, so we,” Scott motioned at himself and Alison, “are gonna go mingle. And you,” he motioned to Stiles, “are going to think about what I said earlier, go find him and talk to him.”  
        “Or, y’know, do something that isn’t talking,” said Alison, raising an eyebrow. She and Scott looped their arms around each others’ waists and left the room, leaving Stiles all alone. Well, as alone as you can be when there are eight people playing an improvised version of beer pong on the kitchen island, and another three are putting an ungodly amount of pickled condiments into a blender with the agreement that one of them was going to drink the result.  
        At a loss as to what to do next, Stiles opened the fridge door. It took a bit of rooting around, but he eventually found what he was looking for. A six pack from one of the local independent breweries with a big note reading “DEREK’S BEER. FUCK OFF.” taped to it. He grabbed one of the bottles, opened it, and took a sip. It wasn’t bad. He took a look around the room, and seeing as the other party goers were preoccupied with their beer pong and condiment chugging, Stiles decided to take his leave (and Derek’s beer) and wander.  
He wasn’t looking for Derek, he told himself. Absolutely not. He wasn’t that desperate to talk about his feelings--or to get punched for taking Derek’s beer. But it was Derek’s house, and if he ran into him... well, he’d cross that bridge when he got there.  
        Something had shifted in his friendship with Derek. When they’d first met it seemed like everything Stiles did pissed Derek off. So Stiles had leaned in hard and learned how to push all of Derek’s buttons, and pushed them constantly. For years they’d maintained this antagonistic friendship--but lately, something else had started to surface. Stiles’ heart beat faster thinking about it. He’d be lying if he said that teasing Derek didn’t start as a poorly thought out attempt at flirting. It had taken years for Stiles to realize that Derek was bi. He’d only ever heard about Derek’s horrible ex, Kate, and just assumed. Lately, and he wasn’t sure if it was just his imagination, he felt like Derek was starting to flirt back. Stiles’ stomach dropped thinking about how they always seemed to be on the verge of playing emotional chicken these days. His mind flashed back to one night last week, after a pack meeting, how Derek’s hand had lingered in the small of his back as he ushered Stiles, Scott, Alison, and the rest of the pack out of his house. His hand had stayed there just a moment too long and Stiles’ cheeks burned at the memory of it. But maybe he was overthinking things.

  
        Stiles made his way outside. The backyard was mostly empty. Someone was leaning on the fence at the back, smoking. Stiles walked across the grass, sidestepping the smattering of lawn gnomes that seemed to be placed, without any thought of aesthetics or reason, across the yard. He leaned against the fence, next to the smoking figure.  
        “Hey,” said Stiles. “I didn’t know you smoked.”  
Derek turned and looked at him as he took a deep drag from the cigarette. “Sometimes,” he said. Letting the smoke spill out in Stiles’ direction. “I’m a werewolf. It can’t hurt me.”  
Stiles turned away to look out at the alley beyond the fence. He took a sip of beer and shrugged.  
        “That’s a good one.” said Derek, motioning to the label. “They did a small batch of it. It’s hard to find, but it’s great. Really smooth.”  
        “Yeah. Smooth,” said Stiles, drawing out the “oo” sound, grinning. Derek’s eyes followed the corner of his mouth as it curled up, and then flickered up to meet Stiles’ eyes.  
        “Wait a minute! Stiles! Did you take my beer?” Derek’s brow furrowed. “The sign literally say ‘Do not touch!’”  
        “I think they actually say ‘Fuck off’” laughed Stiles. “And I can’t follow the whole instruction, but I can definitely do the first part.” Derek glared at him.  
        “Derek--” Stiles started to say, but was cut off by Derek, himself, laughing.  
        “You know there’s a penalty, Stiles.” chuckled Derek. “For taking one of my beers.”  
        Stiles moved closer to him, “And what is that?”  
        Derek leaned over Stiles, his gaze resting on Stiles’ lips. Stiles reached out & tucked a finger through Derek’s belt loop, gently tugging him closer.  
        “Alright,” Stiles said, smirking up at him.  
        Cupping Stiles’ face in his hand that wasn’t holding the cigarette, Derek leaned down and kissed Stiles. The feeling of stubble brushing against his face sent shivers up Stiles’ spine, and without thinking he tried to pull him closer. Derek tasted of cigarette smoke. Stiles had never kissed a smoker. He thought smoking was terrible, but in this moment, for this one kiss, he was overwhelmed by how incredibly sexy the taste of it was in Derek’s mouth.  
       They broke apart when they heard the back door slide open. Glancing over they saw Isaac and Boyd, Derek’s housemates, stagger into the yard, soaking wet and doubled over with laughter.  
       “I don’t think I want to know,” said Derek, turning back to Stiles. They stood in silence for a few minutes, looking out at the alley, listening to the laughter drifting over from where Isaac and Boyd were sitting in the grass. Stiles was thinking about Derek’s mouth and how much he wished he were still kissing him. What were they doing out here? Was this a joke to Derek, or something more?  
        “Do you want to--” Stiles started to say, but Derek finished the sentence, “go somewhere more private?”

  
They made their way around the lawn gnomes and back into the house, weaving around party-goers in an attempt to reach the stairs. Stiles heard Scott call out to him, but he didn’t look back. Derek led him up the stairs and onto the second floor, down the hallway to the door at the end.  
        “Is this your--?”  
        “Bedroom. Yeah.”  
        In all the time Stiles had known Derek, he’d never seen Derek’s bedroom. Derek had been in his loads of times, constantly showing up and invading his space, climbing through the window to avoid his father, the Sheriff. But Derek’s bedroom was a mystery. Derek opened the door and motioned for Styles to enter.  
        The room looked like a two page spread from a home decorating catalogue. All in all, it was a bit underwhelming. There was a picture of Derek and his sisters on the top of the dresser, but that was about it as far as decorations went. Predictably, the colour scheme Derek had gone with was grey, blue, and dark wood. One piece of furniture in the room caught Stiles’ eye. The bookshelf. What kind of books was Derek into? Did he even read?  
        Derek came up behind Stiles, wrapping his arms around Stiles waist. He peppered a line of kisses up Stiles’ neck, his mouth lingering around Stiles’ jawline. Stiles turned to meet his mouth, bringing his hands up to caress Derek’s face. It felt like a blissful eternity that they stood there, kissing. It was Derek who pulled away first. He smiled shyly as he looked into Stiles’ eyes.  
       “Is this... good? Should we talk about this?” He was smiling, but Stiles could see a hint of worry creasing his brow. Was Derek nervous? About kissing Stiles?  
        Stiles reached up and stroked his dark hair. He’d always wanted to do that. How many hours had he spent in pack meetings staring at Derek’s hair wondering how he got it to look simultaneously perfectly coiffed and effortlessly rumpled.  
       “Yeah. This is... good,” Stiles said, echoing the way Derek had asked. “I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.”  
        Stiles felt Derek relax against him. He hadn’t realized how tense he must have been. This was an interesting development. Stiles was used to Derek being tense around him, Derek being mad at him even, but he wasn’t used to Derek being... worried? About him?  
        “Me too,” said Derek. He led Stiles over to his bed.  
        “God, Derek. Were you worried I wouldn’t be into this? I’ve been broadcasting my horrible crush on you for literally years,” Stiles laughed and flopped backwards onto the bed.  
        “Um. Okay, I’m not sure I like your tone, Stiles Stilinsky, but yeah. I was worried,” Derek lay down next to him. They stared at each other, their infatuated eyes drinking in every detail of the face in front of them. Stiles kissed him gently.  
        “Also,” said Derek, pulling back, “Why was your crush on me horrible?”  
        Stiles laughed, “Because you’re so goddamn gorgeous and you obviously didn’t feel the same way.”  
        “To be fair, when we met, you were such a little shit,” said Derek, laughing too.  
        “But you’re into me now?” said Stiles.  
        “I’m very into you now,” said Derek.  
        “Good. Cos I’m into you too.”


End file.
